


loose threads

by fated_addiction



Category: 2PM (Band), K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, SM Entertainment | SMTown, f(x)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance, comebacks and things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5186447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>She feels older and wiser and younger all over again.</i> Victoria, Nichkhun, and a reunion forever in the making.</p>
            </blockquote>





	loose threads

At some point, Victoria decides she isn't hungry anymore. She picks up the salad, closes the box, and pushes it over to Soojung, fork on top, shrugging.

"You need to eat more," she says tiredly. Soojung eyes her salad suspiciously. "I'm not hungry," she adds, watching the younger girl dump the rest of the salad into her own.

"You okay?" she asks, and somewhere in the room, both Amber and Sunyoung join them, Sunyoung playing with the ends of her hair. Usually, that's her line. Victoria shrugs and smiles, pulling at her sweater. "Eonni," Soojung pushes. "I'm not going to eat your salad," she threatens.

"You are," Victoria says without blinking. She stands and ruffles Amber's hair. She tugs at Sunyoung's ponytail and steps around the three girls. "I'm just going to walk it off," she tells them. "I'm still kind of -- nerves, you know?"

The other girls eye her worriedly. The thing is: she's been a leader and a parent for so long -- not that this is about regret because it's _not_ \-- it's just that when it comes to holding her tears back, the bruises on her knees and at least, at _least_ two years of frustration, she's not going to let them see it from her. Because that has never been her style.

"Stop looking at me like that," she adds, pointing to the salad. "You," she says to Soojung. "Finish your food -- and you two," she says to Amber and Sunyoung, "drink more water. I'll be right back."

She leaves to laughter, warm and relieved, and enters an empty hallway with her throat burning and her fists trembling. She takes the three flights of stairs to the offices and then slips into an empty hallway, grabbing the elevator to the rest of the way towards the roof. She just needs fresh air, she tells herself, and a little bit of quiet.

It's still such a surreal experience. This isn't the first time they've won, but it feels like it is, feels like it's been forever and a lot lonelier. She feels like they've had to fight a little harder this time with way more to prove. Sure, they are sunbaes. Sure, they have the talent. Sure, they have amassed a group of fans and talent and peers alike that have always believed them. But this time feels different. She feels older and wiser and younger all over again.

When she reaches the roof, she wraps her sweater around her tightly. It's freezing when she steps out and she makes sure to prop the door open, moving outside to study the skyline.

"Breathe," she says out loud. Her mouth puckers. She sighs. "Breathe," she says again.

She doesn't know how long she stays, standing there, staring at the skyline and watching the building lights blink around her. She hears the door behind her, wedging itself open again. It squeals, but she doesn't turn and half-expects one of her girls to come and find her -- Sunyoung, anyway. She's always the first.

She breathes though, fixes a smile onto her mouth and when she turns, her eyes are huge. The surprise startles her immediately and her mouth drops, her gaze averting to the ground almost instantaneously.

"Hey."

There is no rhyme or reason for how she reacts. Her brain pieces together: _it's Nichkhun_. He stands a little taller, a little wiser, dark eyes and that sly, shy mouth of his, handsome as ever and watching her earnestly.

"Oppa," she greets, and Nichkhun sort of steps forward, smiling and shy. Her stomach rolls into into knots. She figures she should sort of bow, respectfully, since it's been awhile and they really haven't kept in touch beyond weird anniversaries and birthdays that she remembers.

He looks the same, smiling. Her head starts to spin as he nears her, his hands digging into his pockets.

"Congratulations," he offers awkwardly. Then he laughs, rubbing the back of his head. He's wearing a long coat and it hits the back of his knees. "I was in for a meeting," he tells her, "and went to see you guys, stop by, but the kids said you were up here probably."

Victoria shakes her head. "Brats," she mumbles. Her face feels warm. 

"Amber told me you'd say that."

She laughs and the sound feels stuck in her throat, tight even. She doesn't know how to look at him and not remember, between the time they spent together and the aftermath, how weird and confusing it was. There was also years later, where he started dating Tiffany and she really didn't know how and what to feel, especially when everyone was poking and pushing and asking if _she_ was okay.

"Why are you up here?" he asks, gently too, and then reaches out.

She watches as he shrugs out of his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

"I needed space," she says. Her mouth purses. "It's a little too much," she confesses. "And it's a little different if I cry."

His fingers tug at the collar of his jacket, fixing it against her throat.

"I'm sure," he says quietly. He's searching her gaze and her head starts to spin a little. "You're a lot stronger than everyone else."

Her lips tug. "That's what people say," she says.

Victoria doesn't know how long they stand like this, talking about nothing. She asks about his sister. He asks about her family. She tells him that she bought his last album. He tells her that she has to sign his copy of hers. It's weird and surreal and it makes everything feel like the universe is out of place and trying to fit back in; she keeps staring at him too, half trying to make sure that he's real.

"Let's have coffee sometime," he says, and means it, she knows, because Nichkhun always extends himself a little too honestly.

"Sure," she says, shrugging. "You pick the time," she adds, smiling.

Victoria won't let herself think about how easily she responds to his invitation, or the fact that she didn't actually think about her schedule or if this is something that is even kind of possible. But he smiles at her, really smiles at her, and then walks her back inside to the elevators.

She keeps his coat on her shoulders as they ride down to the proper floor. It feels like some kind of insurance policy. She ignores the phone in her hand when it buzzes and wears the coat until the elevator stops, the doors opening slowly as she shrugs it off.

"Here," she says, gently folding it over her arm. She passes it to his hands and smiles. "I'll see you soon," she adds.

It doesn't feel like a promise until she reaches the dressing room, opening it to her girls and their wide, amused grins.

 

 

 

 

 

Her schedule takes her to Hong Kong in between performances. She runs on three or four hours of sleep until after her photo shoot, gently turning down her stylist's invitation of shopping to take a long bath in her hotel room because she trusts her friend and well, an hour of peace and quiet is the kindest thing she can do for herself.

When she leaves the bathroom, towel wrapped around herself, her phone is ringing on the bed. It takes her a minute to recognize the number. She still laughs and picks it up, pulling at strands of her wet hair in front of the mirror.

"You didn't change your number."

Victoria snorts, amused. "I have had the same number for years. It's too much of a hassle to change it."

"You sound like my dad," Nichkhun teases. 

"If this is you wooing me," she shoots back, "I don't know whether or not to be flattered, confused, or both?"

"Both," he supplies.

She laughs. She moves to sit on the bed, curling her legs underneath her.

"So," he starts. "I have business in Hong Kong. And I bribed Soojung."

"Bribing the kids, huh," her voice is dry. "This feels like a separation instead of a divorce."

"Maybe it was," he quips, and she doesn't know what to do with that because it makes her heart flutter just _slightly_ and her eyes widen. She's staring at herself in the mirror, watching her reaction to the laughter in his voice and wondering what is even going on. 

Oh god, she thinks.

"So let's have coffee," he says, finishing. "You can pick the place."

It takes a minute for Victoria to find her voice, another to realize what's really happening, and one more to ignore the strange, wide smile that breaks out onto her mouth because she doesn't really understand how this is real.

"Just meet me at my hotel," she says, shifting off the bed. "And don't be late."

His laughter is her answer.

 

 

 

The bar downstairs is nice enough. It's quiet; it's late and being an idol teaches you all sorts of lessons about timing and how to be secretive about your life, personal choices, and dating. This isn't a date, she tells herself. And if it is, there is no way she's going to start thinking about it now.

She still dresses comfortably, jeans and a black, loose blouse that is half-tucked in. Her boots are new and the hat covering her eyes protects her view, just in case. She hates the _just in case_ part.

He isn't late. It takes him a minute to find her though; she watches from her corner of the bar as he awkwardly moves from table to table, spotting her finally with amusement. He doesn't wave, but marches to her corner and sits down, right next to her and close, draping his jacket behind _her_ chair because he can.

"Hi," he greets, leaning over and kissing her cheek. She blushes and he pulls back. "Did you order?"

Victoria nods. "Coffee for you, tea for me. I should probably sleep on the plane."

"Good," he agrees.

He searches her gaze. She props her chin against her hand.

"What?"

Nichkhun shakes his head. "Nothing," he says. Then: "I just like looking at you."

She laughs, delighted. Her face feels warm and she's still embarrassed because the line is so _cheesy_ and so him at the same time. She's never cared.

"Stop it," she says dryly.

"It's true," he defends. "I always have. I monitored you afterwards too. I had a lot of these moments where I wished we had kept in touched better after the show, you know? Because the end of the day, you were someone for me that I could just... I never had to hide with you."

Victoria softens, looking down. She picks up a spoon on her table, spinning it lightly between her fingers.

"That was a long time ago," she agrees. "We weren't really good at keeping in touch."

"It was weird for awhile," he says too.

She nods. "I do miss you a lot," she says, confesses. It's real and it's happening, so suddenly, the warning bells in her head screaming in her ears. "It will always be the most surreal experience in my life, but I do miss that ... I don't know. You never let me hide myself."

She looks up, almost shyly. She bites her lip and he's watching her openly, like always -- it's almost as if there's never been any years between them, people or anything sharp like that.

"Should we try again?" he asks lightly.

Victoria laughs. "Only if you're serious," she says, just as lightly.

He swallows, leans forward over the table, and takes the spoon from her fingers. He laces his hands through her own. He squeezes her hand.

"I'm always serious," he says. He searches his gaze. "I could finish that line," he says too, his voice dry -- and she laughs, but shakes her head. "I'll spare you," he adds.

"Good," she murmurs.

He doesn't kiss her then, because their drinks are moving across the room, but it feels like he's going to. Her heart is in her throat and his hand is tighten enough to just pull her a little closer. They do not stare at each other like strangers either; it feels too much like an old, odd habit and her mind is spinning with a thousand different reasons why this is a terrible idea. 

When her tea reaches her side, Nichkhun smiles at the waiter for them.

"Thank you," he says.

He never lets go of her hand. This is what a first date finally feels like.

 

 

 

 

 

The girls are besides themselves when the flowers are in their dressing room for Inkigayo. Of course, there are four separate vases and their dressing room smells more like the flower shop near Soojung's apartment and less like a sweaty mix of perfume and stage sets.

"Of course yours is the biggest," Sunyoung teases, snapping a picture. "It seems like he's cozying up to all of us --"

"To ask our permission to date Vic-umma. of course," Soojung finishes and sends Amber into peals of laughter.

Victoria rolls her eyes and she moves to her vase, a mix of blue and white flowers. It's much more spring than she expects and when she picks up the card, she lets out a startled, embarrassed laugh.

"What's wrong," Sunyoung asks, trying to peek over her arm. "What did he say?"

She whirls around, dodging all the girls and folding the card into the back pocket of her jeans. She shakes her head furiously.

"Nope," she sings. "That card is not seeing the light of day ... _ever_."

"What did it saaaay?" Sunyoung is giggling, trying to reach around her. Soojung laughs to, running behind her, but she ducks around them both and hides around Amber.

Victoria shakes her head. "Nothing for any of you to see. It's almost too much."

"Let me guess," Amber says in front of her, laughing when Victoria wraps her arms around her waist. "Something like these flowers were beautiful and made me think of you, but when I started to think of you the flowers didn't seem beautiful enough --"

Victoria squeals and shudders, burying her head against Amber's shoulder in embarrassment as both Sunyoung and Soojung squeal in delight and horror. Amber raises her arms, laughing.

"Oppa's always been predictable," she laughs.

It takes her awhile to text him a _thank you_ and she finally follows up on it in the car, taking the front seat next to their manager as the girls fall asleep in the back. They have a radio show. She has a photo shoot and Soojung has an event. It's going to be another week in the car.

Her fingers still fly across her phone and she bites her lip, finally deciding on her next step.

_let's have dinner_

It's a big decision.

 

 

 

 

 

Her apartment in Seoul took years to finally feel like home.

It's hard when you start out so young; traveling back and forth from her parents' house, to Beijing and finally back to Seoul, even the larger cities she's spent time in, anywhere from three hours to seven days; there has never been anything that has really, genuinely pieced itself together into a home for her. She can't exactly pinpoint when it finally came together though, a mix of always being busy and never really being in her apartment long enough other than to sleep and store her clothes. But there are pieces from traveling, gifts from her girls and fans, little bits of her parents' house. Her mother sends her paintings and sheets, old pictures, and updates. Her parents visited last Christmas and her house was full of laughter and warmth, things that she decided need to create on her own too, otherwise she was going to a little crazy and she's never been that kind of person.

So she invites him over. He is ten minutes late.

"Sorry," he apologizes when he arrives, bottle of wine in hand. The kitchen smells like Italian. She smiles crookedly and kicks slippers in his direction. "I ran late at the studio," he explains. "And then traffic sucked."

"It's fine," she says. "I was running behind too. But you're here."

"I'm here," he agrees.

She takes his coat from him too, balancing the wine against her arm. She hands his jacket next to hers on a set of hooks by the door. Shyly, she gives him the tour save for a few places, like her bedroom and the outside because they're calling for a rare snow shower or something.

"It's very you," he says as she hands him the wine opener. He uncorks the bottle and lets it sit as she studies him, sliding her hands into her apron pockets. She's glad she's remembered to put perfume.

"Is that a good thing?" she asks lightly.

Nichkhun laughs. "Yes," he says. "It's actually what I imagined it to be. You looked settled in here."

"It was hard," she admits and after awhile, he nods too in understanding. 

"It usually is," he agrees.

They're not kids anymore and it becomes clear, ridiculously clear, in her kitchen with the untouched wine and food cooking somewhere behind her. She watches him, feels like she's waiting, and doesn't like she's waiting; his expression mirrors hers completely, almost completely, but she doesn't know how to push forward.

She moves anyway.

Her hand reaches for his, her fingers curling around his wrist. She tugs him forward and he laughs, the sound soft.

"What?"

She shakes her head, standing on her toes. She hovers with ease, studying him. He searches her gaze; his mouth curls and evens, he seems relaxed, and she likes him like this, she decides, even before she starts to think it.

"I'm going to kiss you," she declares, and he laughs, his mouth curling. "Shut up," she says. "I need to figure out if you still give me butterflies."

"I guess that's good," he says. Her fingers brush against his forehead and trace themselves all the way down to the bridge of his nose. She laughs when Nichkhun wrinkles his nose. "Do I get to do the same too?"

Victoria pretends to think. "Possibly," she says. "But I think I already give you butterflies anyway."

"Ahhh," he drawls, smirking. "You better hurry up and kiss me then. To see, of course."

"Of course," she echoes, and so she does.

Her mouth is soft first. She presses forward, her knees edging against his thighs as he leans against the counter and wraps an arm around her waist to hold them together. It feels like she's been waiting forever to do this too; her mouth opens and sighs, he bites at her lip, and her mind starts to spin with nothing and everything at the same time. He tastes familiar and there's something so startling about it, as it sinks into her belly and flushes against her skin. He's all teeth and these soft, low noises that she can't stop pushing for.

Everything in her life is about sharp lines and precision and this, here and now and whatever, it all melts into her differently, unnerving her and pushing at her ways that she doesn't understand. When they break up apart, she breathes but he is first to rest his forehead against hers.

"So it's official," he says and his voice cracks, ever so slightly.

Victoria laughs.

She's always been okay with getting older.


End file.
